


Rose Blossoms

by Mollywobbles



Category: The Secret Garden - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mollywobbles/pseuds/Mollywobbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hadn't started out like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose Blossoms

It hadn't started out like this.

When he had first met her, his impression was of a sour, lonely girl. Her imperious look had startled him, but he had realized that it was how she was used to acting. In India, there hadn't been room in her life for love. His mother pitied her, and so he did also. But he was also fascinated, almost like the fascination he felt when he found an orphaned lamb, or a stray pony. But the fascination had another tinge to it that he didn't recognize. It didn't bother him, and so he dismissed it.

As the days progressed, he saw that, although she was spoiled, she was also clever, imaginative, and unexpectedly affectionate as she emerged from her shell. These qualities, paired with a love of the earth much like his own, endeared her even more to him. The tinge grew. He ignored it.

By the time they had Colin out in the garden for the first time, he looked forward to seeing her with as much anticipation as seeing the sun rise over the moor. It seemed to him that he discovered something new about her every day. Her eagerness, strength, and liveliness captivated him, and her willingness to get dirt under her fingernails. He didn't know much about highborn ladies, but he did know they were notoriously squeamish. He was glad she wasn't like that. The tinge now had a name: "affection".

When Mr. Craven came into the garden, Dickon's eyes went to Mary, not Colin. He never wondered why. As they all emerged from the garden, he hung back a bit. But when Mary caught his hand, his skittishness melted away. The tinge colored and blossomed like the roses over those happy weeks, as Mary experienced as true family for the first time in her life. But she didn't forget her first friend in the whirl of affection she had been caught up in. She came every day to her garden, as he now thought of it. Sometimes, in his secret thoughts, he called it their garden.

But he was still content to be her best friend, her advisor, her solace when things didn't go right. At least, three years later, that's what he told himself.


End file.
